


Just Like Everything Else

by goresmores



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Touch-Starved Keith, nonbinary pidge, relationship progression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 22:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8345974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goresmores/pseuds/goresmores
Summary: Keith is finally in college, but life is one big pain in the ass baseball game, and now Keith's gotta adjust to batting curveballs, apparently. Fortunately, things work out pretty well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is 20 pages long in 10 point font and it took me probably a month to write because originally it was gonna end with some saucy heith smut, but i kinda fell out of my smut-writing period, so it's fluff now. 
> 
> also, a note: keith is pidge and matt's adoptive brother? just in case that isn't clear to anyone. bUT NYANYWAY, hopefully it isnt total ass??? grab a corndog and enjoy some ketchup and mustard gays, folks

After spending years of his life from childhood and well into his teens, Keith noticed a big shift in how he felt and thought.

He’d spent years occasionally hugging or having contact with the people that mattered to him, but overall, he’d never been a touchy-feely person. He didn’t like people he hardly knew touching him, especially because they often did it in surprising manners, like clapping him on the back or slapping his butt.

Who even did shit like that?

His AP U.S history teacher and that one overly friendly family friend, apparently. Though, there were some of his closer friends that would still do this, _obviously_ not picking up on his discomfort (COUGHCOUGHLANCECOUGH).

But now Keith was in college. He had his own apartment, steady passing grades but new problems to deal with.

He didn’t get as much sleep as he’d like, he became dependent on caffeine and also, the new feeling of wanting to be touched.

Not the surprising ways— those still sucked ass, but in affectionate ways he’d never really felt as strongly about before now.

Holding hands, kissing, cuddling— just in general being close to someone else.

There was a word for it: skin hunger. Of course, that sounded weird and mildly cannibalistic so Keith preferred to call it touch starvation, but the gist was the same no matter what you referred to it as; worsened mental health, being more distant from people and not as satisfied by existing relationships and even a fear of being close to people, and all because you don’t have enough meaningful physical contact with others.

Which, the whole touch starvation thing started because of a pre-existing fear of being close to others, what with Keith’s fear of abandonment and general bad opinion of himself, but when he found out about touch starvation, he started to consider that maybe all of that was only worsened when he kept his distance the way he did.

What felt even worse was the anxiety of overthinking his already standing relationships as he considered what it would be like if they started some sort of mutually beneficial touching situation. Not in a sexual way, but just in the forms Keith felt he needed, and maybe that they, whoever he began the touching thing with, would need too. The problem was, he didn’t want to escalate a relationship to a level like that when he wasn’t sure if he could handle it, or if it would be appropriate to suggest, or even if they would be hurt that he would make a rift like that between them by creating a more physical aspect of their relationship that didn’t previously exist.

Still, though, he considered it. He worked himself up with the constant anxious fear of rejection and seeming inconsiderate with what he needed and wanted, physically speaking, but it wasn’t long before life threw him another curveball: His friend Hunk confessed his feelings for him, and it seemed like it took a lot for Hunk to tell him, too, so Keith froze in that moment, and didn’t know what to do. He almost felt like he’d have a panic attack as too many things rushed through his head at the same time and he felt tears pool in the corners of his eyes.

What was he supposed to say? “Hey, Hunk. Yeah, I like you too but right now I’m a bit caught up in thinking about how starved for physical affection I am and I don’t want to feel or make it seem like I’m taking advantage of you by dating you with that knowledge”? Fuck no, that was an awful idea.

So obviously Keith did what anyone would do.

He ran.

Dead ass ran away.

A tear slipped down his cheek and when he couldn’t get any words to come out, he knew it was time to go. He didn’t want Hunk to see him cry and if he didn’t even know what to say, what was the point in sticking around?

When he turned and bolted, Hunk called out a worried “Keith?!” but Keith was out the door of the otherwise empty common area and ran as far as he could before he got too winded to keep going.

He slammed his back against a wall, making sure he was hidden from view and slid down to bury his face in his knees, covering any exposed parts of his face with his arms.

So he sat there and silently cried, praying to a God he didn’t think existed that no one passed by or stopped to ask him what was wrong if they did.

Thankfully he was left alone until the steady stream of tears stopped.

With that being one less thing he had to worry about, he wiped his face and stood up, throwing his backpack over one shoulder as he made his way toward the bus to get home on.

★ ★ ★

“Hey, Keith? Hunk says you were acting weird.”

Keith just kept looking at his book, choosing not to look up at the sound of Pidge’s voice. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have, even with Pidge.

“Look, I’m not expecting you to open up and pour your heart out to me or anything, but I do want you to know that he’s worried. Since I’m your sibling he figured he could tell me what happened? And that sounds really rough, the crying and running away thing.”

Keith kept his eyes focused on the book, but he wasn’t reading anymore.

Pidge pulled out the chair and plopped down. “He gets it, by the way. That you’re not great with words and affection. He’s afraid he freaked you out, and he says that you don’t have to tell him what happened directly. If it helps any, he suggested writing out how you feel in the form of an essay? To help explain it and so it maybe it feels less like tipping the kettle and more like formally stating things, which Hunk says helped him when he was younger because he was bad at talking. I told him that might not work for you either because you have to actually _want_ to be open about your feelings to even start that, and you aren’t an open book, but he asked me to at least tell you.”

He looked up and out the window in the opposite direction of Pidge.

Keith caught Pidge shifting in their chair in his peripheral vision. “And by the way… I don’t blame you? Like, if you don’t want to talk about it to anyone. You’d rather resolve things yourself, same as me, and I’m not gonna be a hypocrite and say that you should tell me because I get it, but I don’t want you to feel like college is any different from the past? We’ve opened up to each other before, and if you need help, I can listen?”

Keith still didn’t respond. He wasn’t really sure how to, but at the same time, he wasn’t really sure he wanted to respond.

Pidge tapped the knuckles of their small fist against the library table.

“Right, well, good luck with it all. I have a study date with a cute girl from my programming class and I need to get my books. Call me after 7 if you want to talk. I’ll make sure my ringer is on.”

And with that, Pidge got up and left.

★ ★ ★

Back at his apartment, Keith sat at the kitchen table and stared at the sheet with an expression as blank as the paper itself.

Thankfully he had just enough free time to at the very least _start_ writing his essay to Hunk.

He might not ever give it to him, but Keith figured he could _try_ to write it, even if that ended up being the case.

For the first try, Keith didn’t put too much effort into thinking about what he wrote down, but when he read over it, it sounded choppy and almost nonsensical.

Fantastic.

For the second try he put a bit _more_ effort into thinking, that way he could have something that made some semblance of sense. Unfortunately, he left out a good chunk of important points he’d meant to make from the first attempt because the format was all wrong. He sighed and crumpled it up.

By this time he’d spent a good hour and a half on writing and decided he needed a nap. He pushed the paper, pen and crumbled pieces aside before standing up and heading to his room.

★ ★ ★

Keith ended up sleeping through the whole night instead and woke up the next morning.

When he checked his phone he saw a text from Pidge, 5 from Lance and a missed call from Shiro.

From: Pidge  
_I don’t think programmer girl gets nonbinary genders. This is gonna be a long night._

From: Lance  
_did you get the notes from english?_  
_are you not responding on purpose?_  
_keeiithh_  
_dude answer me wtf_  
_fine, ill just ask hunk then_

Keith’s stomach lurched at the mention of Hunk and he threw his phone down onto his bed, getting as far away from it as he could manage in his apartment.

He made himself breakfast and he sat down in front of his essay.

Would this really work? Would Keith even do a good job with it? What if Hunk read it and got uncomfortable? What if he read it and he decided Keith was weird and he wasn’t down for any of what he would have to deal with when dating Keith?

Keith shoved his piece of toast into his mouth and picked up the pen, only to scribble an angry face on one of the blank pieces of notebook paper in front of him.

It looked at him with tiny circular eyes and big, thick eyebrows. And somehow, it felt nice to look at how angry it was, and it gave Keith enough sense of calm that he let his forehead hit the table.

He’d have to call Shiro back.

★ ★ ★

After 3 days of not hearing from Hunk, Keith figured he was either very successful at avoiding his big buddy or that maybe Hunk was trying to avoid him too, which made his efforts easier.

Still though, it left Keith feeling empty because he was used to being texted a cute “good morning” from Hunk, but lately hadn’t been receiving it and he was too weird about it all to send Hunk a good morning himself.

★ ★ ★

By day 5, Keith was scribbling little angry faces on just about everything. At this point it was less relieving and more of a way to focus on something other than the touch starved thoughts and everything involving Hunk that accompanied those thoughts nowadays.

The margins of his notebooks were filled with little disembodied faces and it looked really trashy in the same way it was pleasing to look at— a direct conflict that had Keith not wanting to open his notebooks anymore.

★ ★ ★

Day 7 and attempt #8 at writing the essay for Hunk, Keith felt something fall strangely into place while he was writing. The words and the emotions seemed to make sense and in the end he felt oddly satisfied by the result. He folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket. It wasn’t perfect, but it was by far the best, and Keith couldn’t find it in himself to crumble this one up.

Keith grabbed for his phone and started a new text to send to Hunk.

To: Hunk  
_I’m done. We can meet at McDonalds if you want_

He had to wait a good hour and a half before he got a reply.

From: Hunk  
_sure! the one by that mexican restaurant we’ve never been to?_

To: Hunk  
_That’s the one_

He grabbed his keys, wallet and phone before he flipped off the lights and headed out, locking the door behind him.

★

Upon entering McDonald's, Keith spotted Hunk almost immediately.

He signaled to his friend before going up to the counter to order a drink, to which he was handed a cup to fill up on his own.

Keith got himself some unsweetened tea so he wouldn’t be jittery during the meetup and then joined Hunk at the table.

“Have you been doing okay these past few days?” asked Hunk, ever the sweet and concerned one.

“I’ve been… okay, at least. What about you?”

Hunk shrugged. “About the same, I guess.”

Keith took a drink of his tea before he dug in his pocket, fishing out the folded piece of paper and handed it to Hunk, who was watching him expectantly.

Hunk took paper into his large hands, making it seem weirdly small in comparison. He gently unfolded it, avoiding eye contact the entire time.

Keith continued to take somewhat nervous drinks until Hunk read through the entire thing, detailing Keith’s complicated feelings and concerns regarding the matter of physical contact, dating Hunk and his fear of in some way taking advantage of him because of that.

When the bigger man finished reading, he shoved a fry into his mouth and looked down.

“I think you might have made this more complicated than it really is? And I don’t mean that in some sort of ‘stupid Keith!’ sort of way, but more like… all of this can be easily set aside by asking: Did you ever think about liking me romantically before I confessed to you?” Hunk set the paper down on the table, “Because overthinking in a moment like that can add a lot of doubt to situations.”

Well, shit.

“Yes?” It was a hesitant answer and Keith wanted to punch himself. “I mean, I’m not totally sure what to say…

Keith hesitated for a moment but then drug the paper toward himself and flipped it over, pulling the pen he always kept on-hand out of his pocket.

He wasn’t worried about making sure it was perfect this time— only getting the words out and to Hunk.

In no neat fashion, he scritched “I just know that you make me laugh, I think you’re impossibly kind and if you wanted to kiss me, I’d kiss you back in the least selfish way possible” and then slid it forward.

Hunk read it in no time at all and a blush quickly rose to his face.

“I can hear the Lance in the back of my mind saying ‘that’s gay’ and I…”

Now it was Keith’s turn to flush.

“Is that right then?”

Hunk looked at him curiously.

“Is that what love is?”

An expression of understanding flashed across Hunk’s face before he looked very considering. “I think love is sort of relative? Like, two people could mean love in different ways but even if it might not seem like someone else's’ idea of love, it’s still love regardless? For instance, the way _you_ love your friends might be more distant but it’s still an important emotional attachment to you, whereas my feelings of love for my friends are more patting them on the back, pulling them into a hug and being physically and emotionally close as is comfortable. Do you see what I mean?”

Keith nodded, amazed by how eloquent Hunk could be, how smart he was, how quick with his thoughts he could be and his open perspective on the world around him.

God, Hunk was amazing.

Keith flushed at his own thought.

“Keith?”

He shook his head and took another drink, only to hear the sound of the straw sucking up nothing.

“I need more tea.”

This time Keith allowed himself to get sweet tea, making sure to add extra ice because of how it always felt too warm for his taste.

Hunk sounded almost embarrassed as he said, “You were really red.”

Keith stiffened, air and tea conflicting with one another in his throat, and he choked at the words.

“Oh, shit! Sorry!” Hunk reached over to pat him on the back until he quit coughing, and continued to rub soothing circles into his back even after.

“You’re—”

“Oh!” Hunk removed his hand from Keith’s back. “Did you want me to—?”

“No, it’s…”

A big hand lightly smacked at Hunk’s own cheek and he said, “Right, you’re… yeah.” He placed his hand back to its previous placement.

Keith’s eyes narrowed and he gripped his cup even harder. “Are you okay with that? All the stuff I wrote down? It feels like it’d be really uncomfortable for you. This must be such an abnormal thing to have to deal with…”

He could feel the hand on his back move with Hunk’s shrug. “I think it’s fine? It makes sense. I’m a touchy person anyway so I’m happy to hold your hand, hug and cuddle with you and stuff.”

Ah… that was sort of a relief, but there was residual anxiety about the situation nonetheless. It just felt stupid to persist after Keith had his answer, so he let it be.

“So whaddya say? Wanna make it official?”

Keith looked at him questioningly.

“That is, do you want to be my boyfriend? Sorry.”

At the clarification, Keith gave a tentative nod.

Hunk removed the hand from his back and held it out for him to hold. Keith took it, but also took the initiative to interlock their fingers as well.

After Hunk finished his food and Keith decided he was tired of drinking tea, they left the restaurant still holding hands. Unfortunately, Keith had class, so they had to part ways, but they did so with promise of meeting up again later.

★ ★ ★

From there it really only escalated. When they went out they’d often hold hands, though not all the time, because as Keith had never really noticed before, life involved a lot of holding stuff and reaching for things. Other times he was just awkward about it and kept his hands to himself, and sometimes Hunk would initiate but other times Keith would do it himself— there were just a lot of factors, Keith realized, that went into play with something as simple as holding hands.

It was new, weird and filled him up with an unfamiliar closeness that he quickly became fond of, but letting go always came with an edge of disappointment.

Thankfully there was more than just holding hands, though. Sometimes Hunk would put an arm around Keith and the smaller man could relish not just emotional closeness, but also the physical. Hunk was firm in a soft way and a warm similar to the kind that you wake up to when you’ve been asleep under your blankets on a winter night; comfortable and toasty in the igloo you made for yourself between the covers and the sheets.

Admittedly, it was awkward to be under someone’s arm but it was pleasant enough that it didn’t really matter as much as Keith thought it would when he wondered what that would actually feel like.

Kissing, though, was something almost entirely different.

Unlike holding hands, which Keith was used to, and being under Hunk’s arm, which Keith could adjust to, kissing was just… he didn’t even know what word to use for it. They’d only gone as far as kissing on the cheek and that alone was enough to make Keith incredible anxious, unsettled by the closeness of their faces, but mostly because they really only did it in public.

He and Hunk had made a habit to kiss each other on the cheek when they were together but had to leave, whether it be for errands or classes or whatever else would give reason for them have to part ways. The exception to this was when they were in front of their friends.

The others knew they were dating, but Keith wasn’t comfortable being affectionate in front of them and Hunk seemed to almost overheat at the thought himself, so they decided it was best left to more private occasions or sometimes in front of people they’d never see again anyway, so why would it matter?

Overall the whole being physically affectionate thing was a mess of emotions that Keith didn’t really know what to do with. He managed to not get overwhelmed by asking Hunk for reassurance, even if he often found it hard to voice his insecurities.

★ ★ ★

About a week in, Lance plopped down next to Keith looking weirdly serious.

“We need to talk, Mullet.”

Keith didn’t look up from his book, only responding with, “Sorry, my hair doesn’t feel like talking right now.”

“Oh _ha ha_ , real funny, _Keith_. I’m serious. Look, I know you and Hunk have been dating for awhile and I wanna make something really clear to you— if you hurt him, I’ll kick your ass. And then, after _I’ve_ kicked your ass, I’ll get the whole culinary department to kick your ass too.”

That didn’t sound realistic, but Keith got his point.

“Hunk is just a big, darkly toasted marshmallow and I’m not just gonna sit there while you and your awful hair mistreat him, you got that?”

Keith nodded, finally looking up. “Don’t worry, Lance. I won’t hurt him. And even though I’m pretty sure Hunk could stand up for himself if I ever did actually hurt him, thanks looking out for him.”

Lance looked at him stupidly, eyes wide like he didn’t expect Keith to say something back that would be as meaningful as it was.

Finally, he huffed and jumped up, shouting “Good!” and kicking a gangly leg in the air so he could point at his foot while he gave Keith an I’ve-got-my-eyes-on-you gesture. “Because like I said: You. Me. Your ass. My foot. I’m gonna kick it.” And with that he threw his leg down, turned on his heel and walked away.

Keith smiled a bit at Lance as he was leaving. If, Keith decided, he did actually hurt Hunk at some point, he’d deserve whatever Lance had planned times 2.

★ ★ ★

One night they thought a movie date might be nice and since Hunk lived in the dorms, they got together at Keith’s apartment.

When he opened the door to let Hunk in, he said simply, “Pidge is here, by the way.” Not the best greeting, but definitely a necessary warning.

Pidge had taken to calling the couple “The Gays”, which was affectionate coming from them, but really only added to their status as a scrawny little gremlin.

They were on the phone and coming out of the restroom just as Hunk closed the door.

“Oh my God, Molly, it’s not a singular gay anymore— there’s 2 of them now!” Their voice dropped into a stage whisper, “It’s _The Gays_. I have to go right now immediately.” There was a moment of silence as Pidge walked to the threshold of Keith’s room and paused in the doorway. “You don’t understand, okay, I’m 17 and I’m a sophomore in college. I’m basically 11.5 years old, much too young to be exposed to such pornographic acts like cuddling and tender smiles.” They disappeared into the room after giving the couple an obvious teasing side-eye.

Hunk looked to Keith for an explanation, but Keith only shrugged in response.

A loud, almost ugly laugh came from behind the door and the boyfriends cracked up, finding Pidge’s dorky laugh incredible endearing.

“New girl?”

“I don’t think so. Just a friend I haven’t met yet. They’re close, from what I can tell.”

“Ah. Is it always like that with Molly?”

Keith made his way around the couch and sat down. “No, sometimes it’s worse. I had to hear a 30 minute conversation about vaping and vore at 3 am this morning.”

Hunk joined him and put his arm across the back of the couch. “Do I want to know what vore is?”

Keith shrugged. “How do you feel about swallowing people whole?”

“Yep, I’m gonna stop you right there.”

A small smile found its way onto Keith’s face and he let out a breathy chuckle, tipping himself so that his head was resting on Hunk’s soft tiddie to shoulder area. Hunk’s arm moved from the back of the couch to wrap around him and Keith almost wanted to let his eyes fall closed.

Unfortunately, the moment was ruined by the sound of his phone vibrating in his pocket.

Pidge yelled out, “KEITH!” and he sighed, pulling it out.

From: Pidge  
_Don’t forget to offer popcorn._  
_Also, we’re out of butter, so there’s only kettle corn left._

‘We’ they say, as though they live here.

To: Pidge  
_Why do you eat so much popcorn?_

From: Pidge  
_I’m a hungry boy and I refuse to deny myself buttery goodness. Get with it, nerd B)_

Pidge was in a hypery good mood, which was nice to see, even if it meant Keith didn’t understand some of what they had to say when memes and irony were involved.

“Do you want popcorn for when we watch The Time Traveler’s Wife?”

“Do I?!”

Keith extracted himself and stood. “There’s only kettle corn because the heathen in my bedroom has a key to my apartment and really likes butter.”

Hunk followed him to the kitchenette, reassuring him that kettle corn was fine and continuing on to point out the unique qualities of kettle corn that made it a running equal to buttered popcorn as Keith fished the box out of the cabinet.

When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he handed the package to Hunk so that he could open it while Keith responded.

From: Pidge  
_Hey, I’m coming through so if you’re doing something mushy and you don’t want me to see, better stop._

To: Pidge  
_Okay, thanks. We’re just making popcorn though_

Thankfully, Pidge didn’t respond with anything suggestive, but they did come out the room with their backpack on shortly after. “I’m meeting Molly at Whataburger. You kids have fun with your popcorn and gay feelings.”

Hunk called out, “Will do!” as Pidge opened the door and closed it behind them. He placed the popcorn in the microwave and set the time. “Can we talk about how Pidge is one of my favorite people?” He asked, pressing start.

“They talk about boobs and memes a lot.”

“That’s true, but I think that’s just part of their charm. And in a way, I can’t really blame them? Boobs are pretty nice, sometimes.” There was a pause in conversation before Hunk resurfaced with, “I almost felt like Lance when I said that. I had to physically keep myself from shuddering.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with him.”

Hunk couldn’t even deny it. “He’s my best friend, but not gonna lie, he almost lost me when he was still aggressively straight. I’ve never felt more like a dad than I did when Lance finally got over his internalized homophobia and came out as bi. I cried actual tears, I was just that proud of him.”

The microwave beeped and Keith opened the door to pull it out. “I always hear about that a lot from you guys, and it makes me glad I didn’t know him sooner because I think I might have legitimately considered shooting myself if I did.”

Hunk looked past Keith as he shook the bag, expression dead serious as he said, “You wouldn’t have been the only one.”

Fast-forward to movie time and it was exactly what you’d expect.

They snuggled while they watched, occasionally grabbing for popcorn, or at least, up until Hunk started crying. Keith was confused, sort of lost and thought it was a bit overdramatic, but he grabbed the box of tissues from the table and dabbed at the wetness in his boyfriend’s eyes and Hunk sniffled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Keith grabbed another tissue and handed it to Hunk so he could blow his nose.

“Thank you.”

Keith smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Hunk used a big arm to pull him close and they later ended up rearranging themselves so that they were lying lengthwise on the couch.

Being partially in an oddly comfortable crack between the back of the couch and Hunk’s warm stomach, Keith felt himself start dozing off.

Just when he’d felt his mind start to go dark, he hard a “Hey, Keith?”

Keith responded with a questioning ‘hm?’ that sounded way sleepier than he would have thought he was capable of.

“Do you want me to go? You’re starting to fall asleep.”

“No, you can stay if you want.” He punctuated his sentence with a yawn.

“Okay then.” Hunk kissed his head and Keith allowed himself to settle when the TV kept going and Hunk didn’t move.

★

In the morning, Keith woke up in his bed with Hunk next to him, eyes focused on the ceiling and he looked deep in thought.

“Morning,” he yawned, stretching out against the pillows behind him.

“Oh!” He was broken from his concentration at the word and rolled over to face Keith. “Good morning!”

“Are you thinking about something?”

“Ah, just— embarrassing things.”

Keith frowned. “That’s not what I meant when I asked, but it’s fine. I’m not going to force you to share.” Keith wouldn’t want to be forced, so why would he force someone else?

Something akin to guilt flashed across Hunk’s face before he opened his mouth. “I was just thinking that we’ve been together for a couple of months now, right?”

“Yeah, three.” His eyebrows furrowed. “I think”

“You’re right, it’s three. Almost four, but that’s my point… so I- I wanted to try something?”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “It’s not…”

“Sex? Oh my God, _no!_ No offense, but I’m not ready for that.”

“None taken, me either.”

“Yeah… I just want to… touch you? I don’t know. It’s weird, but it’s all I can think about.” Hunk flushed and averted his gaze. “You underneath me with your shirt off… running my fingers over your skin… it’s- it’s weird, I’m sorry.” Hunk went to roll away but Keith stopped him.

He gripped firmly onto Hunk’s forearm and said softly, “You can, Hunk. I don’t mind. Just tell me what to do.”

Hunk’s blush brightened and he sat up. “Well uh… your shirt?”

Keith’s hands went to the hem and he lifted it a bit, shooting a look at Hunk, asking for him to confirm. Hunk nodded, and Keith pulled it over his head, folding it neatly and setting it on the nightstand beside him.

With it off, he turned to Hunk, who was as red as ever. Keith looked on with satisfaction as Hunk whimpered at the full expanse of Keith’s chest and bit his lip to hold back the noise.

Hunk got closer, basically leaning over Keith and used a large hand to gently push him back against the pillows.

He could see the questioning, unsure look on Hunk’s face, so he nodded, easing back to reassure him.

A few of the others darker fingers lifted from his chest, but his pointer and middle finger traced down the length of Keith’s abdomen. Keith shivered at the feathery touch and his hands felt weirdly empty and unoccupied, so he gripped at the sheets beside him.

As Hunk’s fingers reached Keith’s bellybutton, he made a swift switch to his thumbs and made an outward half-circle across Keith’s lower belly, touch no longer feathery and unsure.

It was just low enough that Keith felt his dick stir a bit, now attentive to Hunk’s hand movements, but thankfully he was well away from having a boner.

Hunk switched to his four fingers, thumbs excluded, and drug them up Keith’s sides. They stopped just shy of Keith’s armpits and his thumbs came down to make another half-circle, this time over his pecs, leaving a margin of space between themselves and Keith’s nipples.

On the way back down, Hunk made sure to keep avoiding them and let his thumbs follow along with the other fingers. Towards the end, Hunk removed his hands, whole body trembling as he sat back.

“Hunk?”

“S-sorry, that was probably weird.”

Keith shook his head. “No, it…” He sat up and lifted his arms, resting them on Hunk’s upper arms and rubbing his hands up and down. “It was good. Don’t worry, okay? And I’m not just saying that to make you feel better, either, it was really…”

He didn’t really know what to say. He’d already said good, but that hadn’t really suited the feeling.

“Don’t take my lack of a good wording here the wrong way, okay? It was really different but I enjoyed it. I almost wish you hadn’t st—” It was then that Keith noticed the tears in Hunk’s eyes. “—opped. Hunk?” Worry flooded his chest.

The larger man wiped desperately at his eyes, sniffling and repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t know, I’m just—”

Keith, unsure of what else to do, pulled Hunk into a hug and stayed like that, even as one of Hunk’s big arms came to wrap around him, heavy and warm. Even as tears fell into his hair and a few even on his shoulder.

It took Hunk a good while to calm down, a good 5 to 10 minutes of crying, and the hug was a bit awkward, considering their positioning, but Keith wouldn’t let go for anything right now.

When Hunk finally gave what sounded like a concluding sniffle, Keith allowed himself to pull away. “Do you want to talk about it?” There was still a tear in Hunk’s eye and Keith wiped it away.

“I-I just… you took off your shirt and it all kind of hit me at once… You’re so handsome and you have this gentle look about you sometimes,” his hands went to his eyes and he covered them, continuing to speak, “that makes my heart hurt more than anything, and half the time I can’t tell if it’s in a good or a bad way or _what_. And it feels too early in it all to say it, but _fuck_ … I love you. I mean, I wanna say _in_ love with you, but I think it’s for sure too early, but with everything from the past three months that’s happened and now I just love you _so_ much. I’m sorry, I’m just a giant mush ball. I’ll go or something, I don’t know—” He moved to leave, but Keith tackled him back to the bed and kissed him, hard and full on the lips.

Hunk made a surprised sound into the kiss, but his arms wrapped around Keith’s back and he held onto his shirt, lips working desperately against the others’.

The kiss was a mess of trying to translate words into action and trying to make sense of all of the emotions that went into it, but it left the couple floored by the time they pulled away, breathing heavy.

“I love you too, Hunk. I love you more than I really know how to say. The relationship doesn’t feel demanding, like I have to achieve some standard or something.” Keith’s hands found their way into Hunk’s hair, running through it because he felt fidgety and anxious. “I love being close to you and how nice you are and I hate having to be apart but I don’t want to suffocate you either because I’m really new to all of this but I want it all so bad, I want _you_ so, so bad. Not sexually, just…” Hunk nodded, probably understanding what he meant even though Keith hadn’t said the words, and that was just another thing Keith loved.

Keith had said a lot more than he was comfortable saying and he shoved his face into Hunk’s neck to hide himself.

“God, Keith… we’re a mess.”

He pulled himself out of Hunk’s neck and nodded. “We are, but at least we’re a mess together.”

And Hunk smiled radiantly at that, handsome, with his big brown eyes.

Keith kissed him again.

★ ★ ★

All of those things considered, naps _probably_ had to be Keith’s favorite.

Sure, he was a little bit over-eager when it came to being affectionate now, having gone from awkward and embarrassed to damn near melting at the thought or chance to be close to Hunk, so pretty much any contact was appreciated, but _naps_.

He’d seen something in passing about naps between friends or loved ones deepening trust, and when he’d heard that, it’d been kind of what he wanted to for weeks leading up.

And then it happened.

From: Hunk  
_hey, do you think i could take a nap at your apartment? this guy wants me to tutor him and the meetup place is closer to where you live, i’m just exhausted right now._

To: Hunk  
_Sure. Would you mind if I joined you?_

Keith blushed as he sent his message, just the fact that he’d actually sent it and knowing Hunk wasn’t going to say no… Christ, he was gonna die.

From: Hunk  
_‘course, dude. I’ll see you soon._

But eventually, Hunk came and Keith let him in.

Hunk gave him a kiss on the cheek and smiled. “Hey, you doin’ okay, Keith?”

He was so anxious but excited about something new that the slow, normal greeting was a bit jarring and gave him a somewhat unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach, but Keith smiled. “I’m doing great. What about you?”

“Tired.” And he looked it, too. Hunk usually looked so lively and bright, but his usual shine had been dimmed, and he was left with an exhausted pull of his lips when he smiled.

Keith took him by the hand and led him to the room, letting Hunk go in first and closing the door behind them.

Hunk collapsed on the bed and Keith crawled in beside him. A big arm wrapped around him and held him close, Keith’s back flush against Hunk’s chest and the familiar pudge of his big stomach different when it was against him horizontally instead of the usual vertical of sitting on the couch together or something similar.

Still, Hunk was as warm as ever, comfortable and wonderful to be pressed up against, and Keith let himself melt into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut.

It wasn’t long before Hunk’s breathing evened out and his snores started up, but it didn’t really bother Keith like he thought it might. Instead, it sort of jumpstarted his own need to fall asleep, and it wasn’t long before he fell asleep himself.

★

When he woke up, Hunk was gone. He’d left a note that explained he’d left to tutor, but he was thankful for Keith letting him nap there and that he loved him a lot.

Keith felt better rested than he thought he ever did in his life, and he blushed.

He really had it bad.

★ ★ ★

“Hey, Keith. Do you have a favorite food?”

Keith thought about it. “Turkey?”

“Turkey?”

“Turkey.”

“And your birthday is Thanksgiving too? Isn’t that a little too convenient?”

Keith shrugged. “It’s always worked out well in the past.”

It fell quiet between them, Hunk fiddling with a machine in front of him while Keith cleaned his knife.

“...Are you gonna… y’know. Make turkey?”

Hunk glanced at him, smiling at the hungry look on Keith’s face and the glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Depends. Do you want me to make turkey?”

Keith tensed a bit, but gave a tentative nod.

“Then I’m _definitely_ making turkey.”

★ ★ ★

He made turkey.

Hunk made more than turkey, he’d made a bridge straight from the table to Keith’s heart (not that he hadn’t already nested himself there prior to making an unholy amount of food, but STILL).

“And since you’re the birthday boy, you can get the first part of the turkey, if you want.”

Keith didn’t seem too far from drooling at the sight, and nodded, “I want.”

Hunk laughed and grabbed the carving knife, asking Lance to get plates for everyone. The lanky man groaned, asking why Pidge couldn’t do it instead, but did it anyway.

When Lance finally brought the plates, Keith watched with extreme focus as Hunk cut into the turkey in that weird perfectionist way of his and set it on Keith’s plate. He handed it over and Keith started scooping a mountain of potatoes onto his plate, drowning them in gravy, and then dumping spoonfuls of corn, green beans, spinach and dressing on it as well.

“Jesus, Keith! Save some for the rest of us!”

Keith tensed up at the words, but Hunk saved him as he set another chunk of turkey on a plate. “Lance, calm down. It’s Keith’s birthday, let him live, dude. Plus, it’s Thanksgiving and I made more than enough food for everyone, trust me. Not only do I know you guys, it’s just the general spirit of the holiday. Here.” He handed the plate to Lance, who took it like he just received a gift from God himself and gave Keith a begrudging apology before he did almost the exact same thing Keith did, only with a ton more cranberry sauce.

Keith shot him a look of disgust and he sat down on the couch, more than ready for Hunk to be finished serving everyone else so that way he could sit next to Keith and they could eat together.

A familiar voice spoke over the clatter and chatter, “Hey, son, want me to take over for you?”

Peeking over the back of the couch, Keith saw his dad with a hand on Hunk’s shoulder.

“Uh… are you sure you want to? You don’t have to, I mean…”

“I mean it. Why don’t you go join Keith on the couch?”

Keith could just make out the wink his dad gave his boyfriend and he flushed, turning around.

“O-Okay Mr. Holt. Thank you.”

He didn’t bother to look back after that, only shoved some potatoes into his mouth and waited for Hunk to make his plate.

It was about what you’d expect from Thanksgiving after that.

Lance tried to get everyone to watch the game with him, but no one else was really interested except Pidge and Mrs. Holt, who were more fired up about it than Lance. He felt awkward and slunked off somewhere, while Keith sat and listened to Hunk, Matt, and his dad talk about mechanics and the possibility of actual time travel.

His cheek was resting in the palm of his left hand as he shoved another spoon of dressing into his mouth, mostly kind of bored until they started talking about piloting, that is.

Shiro ended up joining them a bit later, apparently behind in his work, but he fit in nicely when he finally got there.

But then came the birthday portion.

The part where Hunk and Mrs. Holt came out of the kitchen with a big chocolate cake that had candles spelling out his age with a big red 1 and 9.

The part where everything felt right in the world as his mom snapped a picture of him blowing out the candles with wide eyes, the reflection of the flames flickering in his irises.

The part where, after the candles were blown out, Keith kissed Hunk in front of everyone and he could hear the camera shutter in the background, but he couldn’t be bothered to care as Hunk settled into the kiss and his hands came to rest on Keith’s hips.

★ ★ ★

Christmas brought decorating with Hunk, Keith accidentally getting way too much whip cream on his face from the unholy amounts of hot chocolate he drank the entire month of December, as well as another Holt family get-together on the actual day of Christmas.

★ ★ ★

It was the month before the start of their second term that Keith brought up the idea of Hunk moving in with him.

Keith had gone to mark off the date on the calendar, still a fairly recent habit he was working to form because of his awful ability to keep track of time, when he realized it was almost May again.

May was 2 months from their 1 year anniversary.

His stomach fluttered at the realization.

Keith called out, “Hey, Hunk?”

“Uh, I’m pooping right now!”

Christ, he was in the restroom. Keith fell across the couch and waited for the flush of the toilet and the sound of the sink running.

Finally, Hunk came out, wiping his hands on his pants. “What did you need, Keith?”

Keith sat up and started, “I wanted to know if you—” No, that was totally the wrong approach. He got up and made swift haste towards the kitchen, grabbing a plate from the cupboard and the smuckers caramel bottle from the fridge.

“Oh my God, is this something romantic?”

“Shh!” Keith popped the cap and wrote across the surface of the plate with it, checking the legibility before holding it up for Hunk to read.

Hunk cocked his head and read the print. “‘Will you move in with me?’ Wait, what?” His eyes widened and he took the plate from Keith. “Move in? Like? In here ‘in’?”

Keith nodded, fists clenching at his sides with anxiety.

“That totally didn’t register at first. Holy shit, Keith! Do you— Do you actually mean that?”

“Of course I do. We’ve almost been together for a year and you’re here a lot anyway, not that I mind, so I figured…” He shrugged.

“Aw, dude, I’m gonna cry…” Or so he said, but Hunk was already crying. He pulled Keith into one of his famous big, warm hugs and nearly squeezed the life out him with how excited he was.

★ ★ ★

It felt like things became a lot different between them after.

The things they’d known about each other became an in-their-face reality when Hunk moved in.

Keith was exposed to Hunk’s weed smoking, and Hunk was exposed to Keith’s stressed out underage drinking. Hunk got to see Keith’s drunken crying, and at times, unbridled rage. Whereas Keith had to do his best to help with Hunk’s occasional panic attacks and sometimes overwhelming general anxiety.

One night, after Hunk had finally fallen asleep after a bad bout of panic, Keith laid awake in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Hunk’s words from months ago echoed in his mind: “God, Keith… we’re a mess.”

And it was true. Really, they were.

Messes. Messes together.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t handle it, because after all, it was work, but it wasn’t some awful labor that they dreaded. They just learned to cope and work through it all, because while technically they could ‘fix’ their situation, they preferred not to. Why fix something that wasn’t bad?

Hunk smoked to help with his anxiety, had since he was about 14. Keith drank to numb himself, and often they did it at the same time so it wasn’t weird that one was up to something while the other wasn’t. Of course, smoking wasn’t something they could really do in the apartment, so they usually took it out to the expanse of field between the library and the golf course nearby, but it helped.

They once narrowly avoided being arrested, but it helped. There wasn’t any fighting, there weren’t any drunken mistakes or regrets. They just lived their life the way they always did, only now they were doing it with each other.

★ ★ ★

It wasn’t that it was awkward to admit to their friends that he and Hunk still hadn’t had sex with each other and that their pants pals really only got individual attention when one of them alone to give it, but more that despite how comfortable they were with each other and the chances they’d had in the past, neither had been too comfortable taking the step towards sexual intimacy.

And that was okay, actually. Because they didn’t have to be sexual.

They would, eventually, when the time was right, but for now, they were content, and didn’t feel the need to force themselves to take a step they weren’t ready for, just like with everything else.

One step at a time, one day at a time.

A year was just a small fraction of time in the face of the rest of their life, so they had time to go at their own pace. Death was always lurking, sure, but why rush through things just because death posed a threat? Dying a virgin wasn’t so bad, was it?

No, they decided. It wasn’t.

On their one year anniversary, they stuck glow stars on the ceiling and walls of their bedroom while talking about the different aspects of sex instead of actually having sex.

Keith gave smoking weed his first go, and the two threw back a couple shots of vodka before midnight when they called it a night.

One step at a time.

And when that step came, having sex with each other… well, it would sure be something…

Just like everything else.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, you can see more of me @dogmemes420 on twitter, if you're interested!


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